


rocks and water

by reedyas



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: BAMF Beth, Beth centric, Elevator theory, F/M, Gen, Introspection, Post 513, Post Coda, basically what should have gone down
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 20:59:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3624072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reedyas/pseuds/reedyas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"seven times i went down, six times i walked back, and i don't fear the dark anymore, 'cause i'm become all that"</i>
</p>
<p>in which beth falls down the elevator and lives to tell the tale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	rocks and water

**Author's Note:**

> because the gun in the elevator haunts me at night.
> 
> soundtrack to this fic:  
> "rocks and water" by deb talan  
> "i will come" by alpha rev  
> "tomorrow is a long time" by bob dylan
> 
> i don't own the walking dead or any of it's characters. if i did i wouldn't have to write this because IT WOULD HAVE ALREADY HAPPENED.

Beth doesn’t know who fired the first shot. One minute, Dawn was fighting with Rick over Noah, the next the halls of Grady fill with gun smoke and screams.

“Beth!” Daryl shoves a handgun in her good hand. “C’mon!”

Dawn quickly retreats, causing Rick to order their group to push forward. Beth doesn’t dare look back at Carol, who’s just barely holding on as it is. She follows Rick and Daryl’s lead out of the corner of her eye.

“This is for the greater good!” Dawn screams over the echoing gunshots. “Don’t you see that?!” 

They round a corner, the smoke thickening the air. Gun fire fades away as fast as it began, but that only means that the officers are resorting to hand to hand combat. Beth struggles to breathe in the polluted air and sees Officer Licari raise his baton to bludgeon Daryl. 

“Hey!” she shouts and pulls the trigger, bullet grazing his shoulder. 

He abandons his attack on Daryl and chases her down the halls. Before she knows it, she’s met a dead end. With the only way out being the elevator, Beth’s stomach fills with dread.

She sees Daryl raise his crossbow to crack the officer’s skull, but he’s too late. Licari pulls out his pistol and -

A loud ringing.

A blinding pain.

Falling –

Black.

…

Beth awakens with a gasp and a tug on her hair. The ringing in her ears drowns out the growls of an undead O’Donnell, his corpse bent and broken and hands grasping at her ponytail. She blinks the fireworks out of her eyes and scrambles for the hunting knife at her hip. After sinking the blade into O’Donnell’s skull, she yanks it out and wipes the gore on her bloodied sweater.

Her breath is shallow and quick as her eyes adjust to the darkness of the elevator shaft. She climbs to her feet and winces at a sharp pain in her shoulder and the side of her head. Beth reaches back to adjust her ponytail, and discovers the strands are covered in gore. Making a snap decision, she holds the ponytail in one hand and her knife in the other, and raggedly cuts the strands. She takes a deep breath and reassures herself that hair grows back.

Besides, there are a lot more things to be worried about than hair right now.

Breathing erratically, Beth gropes for the gun that was kicked down earlier. She fights the panic that threatens to erupt within her and impair every inch of her consciousness. She knows she can’t let that happen. Her fingertips find the cool metal of the gun. Grabbing it hastily, she squints in the dark to find out how many bullets are left. She counts thirteen, and almost cries with relief. 

Fighting her way out of the basement is a blur of gunshots and frantic stabbing motions. She figures the fight above led many walkers to the hospital. Thankfully, she finds her way out quicker than she did with Noah. Beth throws open the door and squints at the blindingly bright sunlight.

There are no walkers in the parking lot, only an abandoned fire truck sitting outside that hadn’t been there before. Silence and the lingering stench of rot fill the air.  
Beth is alone. Her ears are ringing and blood is trickling down her cheek and her wrist is broken and they _left_ her and –

She takes a deep breath. She’s got this. 

Atlanta is eerily quiet besides the snarls of walkers in the distance. Daylight is quickly fading and she needs to find shelter as soon as she can. 

Beth walks a few blocks, stopping once in a while to bang on the doors of shops to see how many of the dead are trapped. She finds a corner that was blocked off early in the outbreak. There’s a bakery, a consignment shop, and a tattoo parlor that look relatively intact.

The consignment shop is thankfully void of walkers. The store is mostly untouched, and thankfully she’s able to find a bottle of water and a box of stale Wheat Thins in the employee break room. 

After the sun sets, she locks herself in the manager’s office with the food and water. The moon casts shadows through the small window high on the wall. Beth draws her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them. 

She’s been lonely before, but never like this. Being alone in Grady was one thing, but at least she had Noah and even Dr. Edwards. She had been so close to escaping and reuniting with the one she loves, and it had been ripped away from her in the worst way possible.

Beth tells herself she doesn't cry anymore. Her body ignores her wishes and breaks into heaving sobs anyways.

…

She leaves the city the next morning after dawn. Her hair brushes the tops of her shoulders and the early sun beats down on her forehead. It seems that Georgia is having an Indian summer, causing Beth to shed her thick flannel and tie it around her waist. Her knife rests at her hip, O’Donnell’s gun long gone. She knows she’s going to need to find new weapons as soon as possible, but the need to get out of Atlanta is stronger.

Beth treads lightly and quietly among the dead. She figures she must smell horrendous and just like them because of how most of them avoid her. She finds that realization to be both relieving and disgusting. 

She follows the road with the least amount of cars out of the city, wandering aimlessly with the walkers. Once she’s out of city limits, she retreats into the forest and continues on.

She has no idea where she’s going, but she figures walking will ebb the panic within her.

Something moves out of the corner of her eye. She glances sharply to see a masked stranger with more weapons than she can count. He is watching her from several yards away.

His bow points between her eyes, his aim unwavering and true. Beth gulps and lifts her hands above her head. “I’m just passing through. Don’t mean to hurt anyone.”

He’s stoic in the afternoon light. “You with a group?”

She shakes her head, tongue dry in her mouth. “Not right now. We got separated. Don’t know where they’re going.” She swallows the aching pit of helplessness and doesn’t dare look away from his eyes. “Please don’t hurt me. Let me go and I’ll be on my way.”

The man doesn’t say anything. “How long has that gash been open?” He gestures towards the side of her head.

“Over a day. The bleeding finally stopped a little while ago,” she replies, fingers grazing the irritated skin around the wound.

The man gives her a hard look. “You sure you ain’t lying?”

Beth nods her head slowly and lowers her arms an inch at a time.

He sighs and drops his weapon. “I have a first aid kit. Let me stitch that up for you.”

…

His name is Morgan Jones, and Beth swears she’s heard that name before. The astringent stings like a bitch, and he tells her that she’s lucky it’s not infected yet. As he’s stitching her up, she tells him about Grady Memorial and the rogue cops who held her captive.

“I come across people who’re all kinds of fucked up,” he grunts in reply. “I just keep clearing and keep moving on.”

“Where exactly are you headed?” she asks, wincing slightly at the sensation of thread between layers of her skin. 

“Washington DC. Following an old acquaintance of mine,” he says and ties the wound shut. He turns and digs in his pack. “Got my route all planned out.” He tosses her a beaten up map with a route heading north scratched in ballpoint pen.

It’s hard to make out the writing at first in the warm Georgia dusk. Her heart nearly stops when her eyes skim the words Sorry, I was an asshole. Come to Washington. The new world’s going to need Rick Grimes. “I… Rick?” she whispers, breathless.

Morgan turns his head sharply. “You know him?”

Beth nods faintly. “Yeah. He’s the leader of my group.” _he was my daddy’s best friend he’s judith’s dad he tried to save me he left me he helped protect us all –_ “I know him.”

He nods his head slowly. “How do I know you know him and you’re not just pulling shit?”

She squares her shoulders and looks him straight in the eye. “He visited you months ago, right? In his hometown? It was after the Governor attacked. He was with Carl and Michonne. He was close with my dad. Hell, I looked after his daughter most of the time back at the prison.” Her heart clenches and she swallows thickly, quickly blinking back tears. “I don’t owe you an explanation, though. I know Rick, and if he’s going to Washington, then so will I.”

A smirk appears on his haggard face, illuminated by the small fire between them. “You ain’t so bad, girl. I wouldn’t mind having you along for the ride.”

The side of her mouth quirks up into a tired half-grin. “I’d appreciate that.”

…

The trek north is long and strenuous. The sun drenches them in sweat and causes the dead’s stench to worsen.

Morgan isn’t a bad travelling companion. He’s overly cautious and quiet, which aren’t bad traits to have in this day and age. He doesn’t feel the need to talk much, and neither does Beth.

She likes it better that way.

They find more clothes and weapons along the way. She ditches the bloodied white tee shirt for a thick grey thermal and her tattered cowboy boots for a pair of well-worn Doc Martens. She miraculously finds two thigh holsters and two pistols with a few rounds of ammunition. She keeps both strapped on tight at all times, along with the knife on her belt. While she’s more confident with the hunting knife, the guns make her feel as if she could protect herself even better than before.

She soaks her cast in a bucket of muddy water a week later. She knows it’s most likely healed and the plaster will only burden them on their journey north. Beth plies it off and is pleased to find her wrist intact. The bones feel weak, but she knows that they will strengthen with time.

Beth feels like this life on the road is doing her good. 

She spends most of her days ignoring the blisters on her feet by thinking of her group. Of Maggie. Of Rick. _Of Daryl._

Of course she misses Maggie. She misses their sisterly bonding time before the turn. Their camp outs behind the barn, bike rides through town, listening to Maggie’s wild college stories. She misses having someone to talk to that would want to protect her, but wouldn’t inflict any parental judgment on her. She misses her big sister, the woman who encouraged her to fan the flames that cindered in her soul. 

She’s always known, even before the Governor’s attack, that Maggie’s first priority is Glenn. When this realization came to her, she's always ached deep inside ever since. 

And Rick. Ever since the night they’d lost the farm, she had put her faith in him. He led them the best he could, had made sacrifices no one should ever have to make, and helped their family grow stronger in ways they’d never thought possible. Beth has always admired Rick and his abilities to make the decisions no one else could.

Even if they all believed she had died in that elevator shaft, it still stings knowing that Rick had led her family out of Atlanta and away from her.

And Daryl. She misses him most of all. His knowledge of the forest, his rough exterior, his heart – hell, she missed everything. When Carol had told her that he had not stopped looking for her for days, Beth felt her heart swell and a genuine smile breach her face. As much as she misses him, she can’t bear thinking of what he is doing at this moment – it hurts too much. 

If Daryl died in front of her, she didn’t know how she would take it. Although she understands, it still makes her upset knowing he left her too. 

She knows it’s irrational to be angry at her family for leaving her to the walkers. She still can’t believe how she made it out alive herself. She’s always been underestimated and dismissed as weak.

If she finds her family, she can’t wait to see the look on their faces when they see Beth Greene lives to fight another day.

…

There are men and herds on the road. Beth doesn’t know which is worse. She often can’t see the difference between the two. Both are inhumanly dangerous and hungry for the blood of the living. 

When the pair comes across these threats, they conceal themselves into the wood. She’s perfected the ability of sinking into the forest trees and underbrush, never making a sound as heavy feet drag through the woods. 

During these lethal games of hide and seek, she thinks back to her time with Daryl after the prison. How they stalked game and walkers through the woods. How the crossbow was awkward and heavy in her arms at first, but then felt like an extension of her arm and her eye. How her stomach dove and spiraled when she saw the proud gleam in his eyes after every correctly aimed shot.

She misses those times. They were simpler in a way, even if they weren’t simple at all.

She doesn’t let herself think about the _Oh._ The _Oh_ that awakened something deep and aching inside of her, a feeling she had been pushing down for a long time. She knew what Daryl had been trying to say, his vulnerable stare and the rigidness of his shoulders telling all. 

_Oh._

Maybe one day she’ll find him, and she’ll tell him. She’ll tell him that he taught her to be apt and able to survive. That his strength and unwavering faith in her willed her to keep on fighting. Beth knows she made it, that she’s not another dead girl. Daryl helped ensure that she will never be just another dead girl.

But she can’t think about those maybes and what-ifs and ohs now. She will wait in the shadows of the trees, hidden in the branches above, waiting for the beasts to pass so she can walk another day.

…

It’s the morning after they crossed over into Virginia. Beth is keeping watch in the early dawn light, the rising sun causing the dark sky to turn pink and orange. They are camped out next to a small crick, and she’s thankful for the opportunities for fresh water and something clear and cold to wash her face with. 

She hears twigs cracking ebfore she sees him. In a second, she’s at her feet and pointing a gun at the stranger. He has an open face with a clean cut jaw and honest eyes. His hands are up as he approaches them slowly.

“Morgan!” she curtly whispers and kicks her sleeping companion. “Who are you?” she asks, turning back to the stranger.

“My name is Aaron,” he begins, “and I am a friend.”

…

Alexandria sounds like it’s too good to be true. And while Aaron reassures them that it is a good place, Beth and Morgan are both glad to hear that they can leave whenever they want if they choose to. 

It’s comforting to know that they will not be confined. After Grady and the freedom of travelling along the open road, Beth knows she will never want to be cooped up for too long.  
She’s still a bit wary when she and Morgan pile into Aaron’s truck. He tells them that they’ll be meeting up with his recruiting partner up the road first before they head to the Safe Zone. The ride is quiet except for the Bob Dylan tape Aaron plays on the stereo. Beth rests her head on Morgan’s shoulder, praying for a break from the hardships that plagued this new Earth.

The truck slows to a stop behind a parked motorcycle on the side of the road. “He must be out in the forest,” Aaron comments and fiddles with a walkie talkie. “Hey Dixon, I’ve got the new recruits,” he says into the device.

Beth’s heart stops when she hears, “Alright, I’m coming,” from familiar, gruff voice through the crackle of the walkie talkie. 

When Daryl Dixon emerges from the wood, blood is pumping through her ears and her eyes blink rapidly at the sight of him. His crossbow is dangling from his fingertips when their gazes meet. Beth feels like crying and laughing hysterically, so she gasps his name and barrels into his chest. 

She snakes her arms around his neck and jumps up, clinging into his waist with her thighs. She feels him clutch her to his chest as she cries happy tears into the crook of his neck. Beth can even feel sobs wrack throughout his body as he holds her. 

“Beth, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry,” he whispers into her hair when he finally lets her down. “We thought you were dead and there were so many walkers I couldn’t –“

She shushes him and wraps her arms around her waist. She may have been bitter before, but she understands now. If she had died, she would’ve been half devoured by walkers by the time they reached her. She never would've wanted anyone to see that. “Daryl, stop. It’s not your fault.”

He takes a shuddering breath and presses his lips to her hair. He murmurs her name and Beth lets a few tears leak from her eyes.

“So, I take it you two know each other?” Aaron asks playfully, breaking the tense moment. Beth blushes and shoves her face into Daryl’s vest.

“Guess you could say that,” he replies gruffly, voice thick with subtle emotion. “Who’re you?” 

“Morgan Jones. I’ve been following Rick Grimes,” says Morgan, slightly amused.

“We met up outside of Atlanta and have been travelling together for the past month or so,” Beth explains, bumping shoulders with Daryl. “He knows Rick. He said he met Carl and Michonne too.”

Daryl nods slowly. “Alright. I think Rick’s talked about you before. Shouldn’t be any problem.”

Beth beams brightly and tugs on Daryl’s arm. “Well come on, let’s get going!”

…

She rides into the gates of Alexandria on the back of Daryl’s motorcycle. She’s never felt as happy as she does in this moment. Her arms are wrapped securely around his waist, her short ponytail whipping back and forth in the wind. With the sun beating brightly down on the two of them, Beth knows she will remember this moment for forever and ever.

…

By nighttime, she is absolutely exhausted. They reached the Safe Zone in the late afternoon, and was quickly tackled by a sobbing Maggie after stepping off of the motorcycle. She was greeted by Rick and Michonne and Carl and Glenn and Carol and Judith – and Christ, she’s never felt more loved.

She meets Deanna, the woman in charge. She asks Beth a series of questions that seem odd in the world they live in today. Beth can tell not a lot of them have ventured outside the walls, and that worries her a little bit. She isn’t assigned a job just yet, and she’s glad for it. She knows she needs to adjust to the walls before taking on responsibilities.

After eating a warm, home cooked meal and showering, Beth finds herself wandering outside onto the porch. Daryl’s outside, smoking a cigarette, flicking the ashes onto the wood. The neighborhood is quiet except for the murmur in the house behind them. 

“Hi.” She clicks the front door shut and strolls towards him, leaning on the railing. She’s getting used to the butterflies in her stomach whenever she sees him.

“Hey,” he grunts, eyeing her. “You cut your hair.”

She self-consciously tugs on a strand of blonde hair. It now reaches a little past her shoulders. “Woke up to a walker tugging on my ponytail. Told myself it’d grow back.” She bites her lip nervously.

“Looks good,” he comments. 

Beth smiles and ignores the warmth on her cheeks. “Looks like you haven’t cut yours,” she teases lightly.

He scoffs. “It’s fine. Don’t understand why y’all are so obsessed with it.”

“It’s just getting so long,” she replies, absentmindedly brushing his bangs out of his eyes. “You’re gonna have trouble seeing soon.” Beth inhales and swallows her nerves. “I think it looks nice.”

Daryl shrugs and makes a noncommittal noise, but Beth doesn’t miss how the tips of his ears flush. “I’m glad you’re back,” he hums, stubbing out the cigarette on the wooden beam.

“Me too,” she murmurs, reaching for both of his hands with hers. “I missed you so much, Daryl Dixon.”

He gazes up at her from his feet, his deep blue eyes filled with emotion. “Beth, I –“ he begins to croak.

“I know,” she interrupts and steps closer towards him. “When I was on the road, I told myself that if I ever saw you again I was going to do this.”

He starts to utter a question, but Beth presses her lips to his in an instant. His lips are warm and slightly chapped against hers. She wraps her arms around his neck and curls her fingers into the dark locks on the back of his neck. Her heart is beating wildly in her chest from both adrenaline and pure adoration for this man. There is a faint pressure against her lips just before she pulls back.

Beth searches his face as she breaks the kiss. Daryl’s looking at her in a way that no one else had ever before. The vulnerability in his eyes is both overwhelming and frightening, and she knows this look is for her eyes only. One of his large, rough hands cups her cheek lightly, the other settles on her hip. 

“Beth.” His voice breaks in the quiet of the night, and this time he is the one to kiss her. His lips are passionate and hungry against hers, like he’s dying to drown in her kiss. He lightly bites and licks her lips in a way that makes her stomach curl delightfully. He tastes like cigarettes and something cool, clean, and uniquely Daryl Beth hums when she parts her lips and lets him in, his tongue caressing hers gently. 

They break the kiss with heavy breathing. She feels so hot all over, like she’s about to burst. Beth realizes that she was very much pressed up against Daryl, and the last thing she wants to do is pull away. He kisses her cheek and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Christ, Greene. What am I going to do with you?”

Beth giggles and nuzzles her face into his chest. Soon, they will turn in for the night and wake up the next morning safe and sound. Daryl will head out with Aaron, and Beth will stay behind. That’s okay, because she knows he’ll always come back one way or another.

Beth doesn’t know how her life is going to be in Alexandria, a place so different from the harshness of deserted highways and the ruins of civilization. But hey, she’ll figure it out. She’s done it before, and she’ll do it again.


End file.
